Half a Second's Contemplation
by Spasmodic dust bunny
Summary: You can have a lot of thoughts in half a second. Here are some of the ones thought by characters during the series.
1. Half a Dozen Times

A/N Salvae omnais! Okay, this is going to be a sort of collection of short little things. All of them will focus on a specific second in the books, and a character's thoughts in that second. Hence the name. I have a few written already, and I'll put the rest up soon. If you have any ideas for more, please tell me in a review. And please review anyway. Remember kiddies, reviews make the world go round! And they make me very happy. If you want, flame it. Roasted marshmallows are yummy.  
  
Disclaimer; Ik bezit om het even wat van Zijn Donkere Materialen niet, zodat vervolg me niet. (That was Dutch, in case you were interested.)  
  
"Lyra's father stood there, his powerful dark-eyed face at first fierce, triumphant, and eager; and then the color faded from it; his eyes widened, in horror, as he recognized his daughter."  
  
Half a Dozen Times  
  
I called for a child.  
  
I called for a child, and the fates bring me my own daughter. My own daughter who did not even know that she was my daughter, who knew nothing of me except the part that scolded and punished and bought back presents if she was good. And yet, what did I know of her? Nothing, except for the part that was wild and savage and had dirty fingernails.  
  
And was now standing in front of me. Inside my head, I am screaming curses at the fates. How could they do this? The one thing upon which all my life's work rests upon, the thing of the most importance. The thing that the future of the world rests on. Or the future of the worlds, if my theory is correct. Except that now I will never find out.  
  
Unless... The second the little speaker in my head voices this impossible option, I silence it. NO. I have done many things in my life that can be viewed as heartless and cruel, but this. Never. But... NO! I don't care about the fact that this is the only way, I don't care about the fact that my refusal to follow through with my plan could, will, bring disaster. She is my daughter. My daughter. How often have I thought this phrase? Perhaps half a dozen times in the last few years. And yet this emotion coursing through me now is unmistakable, it has only one name -  
  
Love. I love her, and I will protect her. The outcome of this action is almost too terrible to imagine. The worlds will collapse, disaster will reign. But none of it will matter, because she will be safe.  
  
My daughter.  
  
Reviews are your friends! 


	2. Mistakes

A/N Thanks to Danny Barefoot, Bard's soul and the mysterious entity known only as alex for reviewing. Being the wonderful *snort* person that I am, here's another vignette.  
  
Disclaimer; I dopo nopotop owopnop Hopisop Doparopkop Mopatoperopialopsop. Doponop'top sopue.  
  
"One last kiss, rushed and clumsy so that they banged cheekbones, and a tear from her eye was transferred to his face; their two dæmons kissed farewell, and Pantalaimon flowed over the threshold and up into Lyra's arms; and then Will began to close the window, and then it was done, the way was closed, Lyra was gone."  
  
Mistakes  
  
I felt her tear land softly on my cheek, a little ball of water and salt. It was only a tear, and yet it felt like a ball of fire, setting my face aflame first and then travelling it's way down the rest of my body. It was that tear that made me hesitate.  
  
I couldn't do this. I couldn't separate myself eternally from the object occupying the largest portion of my heart, tear away half of my soul and never see it again...  
  
But I had to. I tried to rationalize with myself. Think about the alternative, you must do it, you must. But must doesn't matter, must is a meaningless word, how could us mere humans know what we must do, what must be. It is only what our feeble minds imagine as outcomes that determines must. How do we know that we're always right?  
  
Because we're not always right. We make mistakes, mistakes that change the worlds. We make these mistakes because we believe that what we're doing is the right thing to do in the circumstance. Like we could ever know.  
  
My thoughts drift to this circumstance, my circumstance, /our/ circumstance. So many little chances. Maybe someone somewhere in the country is thinking that it was a mistake to have left the door open, because it meant that their cat escaped. Maybe they wish that they could redo the scene, and fasten the door properly, and not make that mistake.  
  
Except that if they did that, did what they thought was the right thing, avoided that particular mistake, then I never would have seen the cat. I never would have followed it through the window, none of this ever would have happened, I never would have met Lyra.  
  
I never would have had to say good-bye. Good-bye. That simple, two-syllable word ends my hesitation. We don't know what we must do, and we never will. But there's as good a chance as any that what we've planned to do is the right thing, so I've got to stop being selfish, and only thinking of the two of us. I've got to do what we planned to do.  
  
And so I closed the window.  
  
A/N You like, no like? Please tell me! I realized only after I had finished this that I had been greatly influenced by PastWatch the Redemption of Christopher Columbus by Orson Scott Card. Great book by the way. Okay, adios. 


	3. Laugh at the Irony

A/N I'm sorry this took so long, really! *ducks rotten tomatoes* Thanks to HDM lover and Lightbulbs make good pets for reviewing. The ideas are great, I'll definitely be doing some of them. Sometime. Hopefully you like this one... it's actually quite similar to the first. I suppose Lyra has that effect on people. Enjoy... or not.  
  
Disclaimer; See the title at the top of this page, the one that says Fanfiction.net in pretty green/black letters? See it? Now, the word FAN implies that this work is done by a fan, not an author, does it not? (and no, not a little whirly thing that cools you down in the summer) Therefore, doesn't that mean that I am NOT the author of His Dark Materials? So then, logically, wouldn't I NOT own them? You understand? *waves flamethrower* Good.  
  
"What is going on here?"  
  
A light, musical voice. Her voice. Everything stopped.  
  
"What are you doing? And who is this child -"  
  
She didn't complete the word child, because in that instant she recognized Lyra. Through tear-blurred eyes Lyra saw her totter and clutch at a bench; her face, so beautiful and composed, grew in a minute haggard and horror- struck.  
  
Laugh At the Irony  
  
Glittering silver. The undeniably cruel silver that had hovered over so many terrified children, had split so many defenseless, innocent souls in half. These factors alone are horrifying enough. But to me, it was a hundred times worse.  
  
I had /invented/ that silver. I was the one who had ordered all the souls split apart. I had watched it being done a million times before, with many feelings. Feelings of excitement, of fascination, of /pride/ at what I was able to do. Many feelings, yes. But never these ones.  
  
Because this time it was my child under the silver blade. My daughter. And these feelings were ones of horror and terror. Still, I could almost laugh at the irony. Or cry. Two products of mine, one, my brainchild, the invention that made me rise up in the ranks of the church. And two, the child of my own womb, with my blood flowing through hers. And now my two 'children' were about to destroy each other.  
  
I had been an awful mother. I never gave a second's thought to her since she was born, never bothered to care about whether she was healthy, was happy, whether she was dead. Except for the last year, when I had realized that I was a mother too. That I too was among the masses of those who loved someone more than anyone else, more than life itself. I now cared for a child just like all those children that my blade had put an end to.  
  
Which was about to put an end to my child, too. Is this how the other mothers felt when it happened to their children? No, of course not. They hadn't been there to see it, they didn't even know what had happened. They hadn't been the cause of it.  
  
I was an agent of the church. I would do anything to help the Authority, look at all I had done already. How many were as devoted as I was? What had I ever done to deserve this? I knew the answer before my mind had even asked the question. The look on the little boy's face from my last visit several months ago was answer enough. That and the sound of his cries.  
  
And now I'm hearing those cries again, coming from my daughter. My daughter, who I ignored, and never cared for a second about, who never, until recently, had even known my name, or who I was to her. Who still doesn't know who I am to her. My child, who is now beneath the ever descending, glittering silver. 


	4. Finding of Ways

**A/N See, it lives! Er, right. The point is, I haven't abandoned this fic. And guess what? I'm going to answer reviewage! *Non-existant clapping and cheering* So, here goes.**

**alex****; Thanks!**

**Bard's Soul; Thank you. And yeah, they are sort of similar. **

**Danny Barefoot; Hmmm, that's a good one. Except that I've already done Will and I like to be fair. But maybe.**

**Lightbulbs make good pets; Cool name! Wow, I inspired a tear? *cackles with new-found power***

**Da Fuge; Thankies!**

**HDM lover; Thanks for the ideas! I'll see if I can get around to one of them. **

**Emma; Well, It sort of was supposed to be serious...**

**Tindomiel; That's a cool idea. Maybe if I have time one day...**

**Subtle; Thank you!**

**Mistress of Magic3; Ooh, Serafina.**** I'll try!**

**Shieldmaiden; Go Lyra indeed. **

**Shieldmaiden; You again? Well, double thanks!**

**Thanks to everyone! You guys are great. *hands out chocolate* So, this is Jopari in this chapter.**

 "The shaman saw a boy even younger than he'd thought, his slim body shivering in a torn linen shirt and his expression exhausted and savage and wary, but alight with a wild curiosity, his eyes wide under the straight black brows, so like his mother's...

And then came just the first flicker of something else to both of them."

Finding of Ways****

I had always wanted to be an explorer, even as a child. I had gotten my wish, but after it was granted another yearning started, one that began as soon as my eyes saw his dark ones, when I looked into his small face.

I would teach my son to be an explorer too, I would teach him all that I knew, and then we would go on adventures together, hacking through the jungle or escaping a tornado. It was a foolish yearning, like the ones small children have when they say that they want to be a superhero, or go to the moon. But where children eventually give up, I didn't. 

And then the expedition was organized, and I would be doing what I had always wanted to do - research up north, and, more importantly, search for the anomaly. So I had to leave the boy, my son, less than a year old. But even though he wasn't with me, I pretended that he was. I would talk to him like an invisible friend, show him how to do whatever I was doing, imagined his dark solemn eyes staring up at me. 

Look at the telescope Will, do you see what Daddy's doing? He's looking at the stars. Now you try it Will...

And despite his young age, he would try, and then gaze at me some more. Oftentimes I wondered if I was going crazy, but I always laughed away the thought. If I was crazy to do this, then I definitely was to believe in the anomaly, in a window to the spirit world. And sometimes I wanted to be crazy. 

He would be twelve now. He was last with me in a storm, through a window. Do you know where we are Will? Neither does Daddy. But don't worry. We'll find our way again. And then after that time, he faded away. 

_Don't worry Will, we'll find our way again. _

**Please review!**


	5. Stepping Away

**A/N See?**** It's not abandoned. But it's vacation, and I've been posting and updating like crazy, so here's chapter five. I think. Anyway, this is in the cave when Will has come to rescue Lyra and they're leaving. Reviewage; **

**Fugitive; Thank you, thank you**

**Elfin Empress; Lucky you, you've got your chapter on Lyra. Mary? I like it, but offhand I can't think of any moments to write about. Suggestions?**

**Fugitive; Heh, thanks again!**

** Tindomiel; Well, yeah you could, but…pretend. Yup.**

** Lightbulbs; make good pets; Well, it should be obvious now that I'm updating again…and thanks.**

**Disclaimer; Phillip Pullman owns 'em all.**

And a great and furious sob shook Lyra herself, for after all Mrs. Coulter was the only mother she would ever have, and Will saw a cascade of tears run down the girl's cheeks. 

**Stepping Away**

I wonder what I would have been like if I had grown up with a mother. Different, I'm sure. Maybe better, maybe worse - there's no way to know. I did have a mother though, for a few months. She was my mother and I was her daughter even if I didn't know it at the time. But we pretended to be a family with porcelain figures and patent leather shoes and roses in a vase. 

That family didn't last long, however fairytale-like it had seemed in the beginning. And the last few days...the last few days she was my mother again. I don't know what happened or how I got to this cave, but I know that I was warm and comfortable and Pan was with me. I'm clean, so she must have washed me, and fed me and...and took care of me. Like a mother. 

But no matter how hard I try to I still can't forget that she's done terrible, terrible things, and that I should hate her for them. Maybe I do hate her, I don't know. But I love her too, because she's my mother. Is it possible to love and hate someone at the same time? Maybe.

Will's looking at me and mentally telling me to come along, and my mother is crying and desperately calling out my name, and I'm crying too. I'm crying because I want to leave and go with Will and do what we're supposed to do, and I'm crying because that's my mother in the cave, and I'm leaving her. 

_I'm sorry_ I think to myself, _but I have to. _And now Will is pulling at my arm, and almost without realizing it I'm taking a step, and then another. I'm stepping away from the only mother I know, and the only mother I'll ever have. I'm stepping away from her and her anguished wails and I'm stepping away out of the cave and into the night air with Will, and _I'm sorry._

**A/N Review and I shall be eternally grateful...really.**


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